


winter, spring, summer or fall (you've got a friend).

by lilyshoneybee



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, but read into it what you want ig, disclaimer: hosie friendship not relationship, please do not kill me, this is definitely angsty, this is so dark i'm so sorry, tw: alcohol, tw: implication of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:11:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyshoneybee/pseuds/lilyshoneybee
Summary: "Josie had once heard someone say that grief was like a briefcase you had to carry around with you every day. The weight may vary from day to day, and if you allowed someone to help you, it may be easier to handle. Some days you may manage fine, others, the weight may drag so heavy that it renders you unable to do anything.Josie had never understood this. And then Lizzie died."Or, a year in grief, friendship, and what Lizzie would have wanted.





	1. Winter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter. A season of death, and the end of things. A season of cold, hard nature. A season of loneliness.

Josie had once heard someone say that grief was like a briefcase you had to carry around with you every day. The weight may vary from day to day, and if you allowed someone to help you, it may be easier to handle. Some days you may manage fine, others, the weight may drag so heavy that it renders you unable to do anything.

Josie had never understood this. And then Lizzie died.

It was the last thing Josie had ever expected to suffer. After all they’d come through, with Malivore and all the monsters that had attacked their school. Even finding a way to stop the Merge, leading to them both surviving past their 22nd birthday. She thought they were safe. And, more than anything, she thought that if either of them would die young and early, it would be her, not her sister.

Of course, she’d forgotten Lizzie’s  Achilles heel. Hope.

Lizzie had always been the more calculated and rational twin. True, she often did not take good care of herself, but when it came to fighting against the forces of evil, she was rarely one to rush in without a carefully articulated plan. That was one reason, Josie thought, that she and Hope made such a good match. Lizzie wouldn’t let Hope go in all guns blazing. Hope would listen to Lizzie’s plan.

One night, however, it went disastrously wrong. 

And even with Lizzie’s plan, Hope ended up on the floor, the night’s monster draining her of her power and rendering her almost helpless. And Lizzie’s rationality went out of the window. And just as the monster had advanced to deal the final, fatal blow, Lizzie had thrown herself between Hope and the monster, with no regard for her own safety, and taken it herself.

Hope had done everything she could. So had Josie, and Penelope, after Hope had called them in a panic. But it wasn’t enough. None of it was.

Elizabeth Mikaelson died on December 12th, at 11:58 pm. Josie remembers it well, because it was the precise moment she felt something inside of herself die, too. Twin thing, in the worst possible way.

The first weeks are a slow, drab blur of misty denial. Josie and Penelope’s relationship took a hit, too, though Penelope hadn’t expected anything different. Josie despised the thought of being happy with Penelope while Hope was unhappy without Lizzie. It made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t kick Penelope out, though. Penelope just sleeps in the spare room at night, and has learned to only speak when spoken to. Josie likes that Penelope respects that. She just hopes Penelope will be patient enough with her. Some nights, of course, the nightmares come, and Penelope hears and comes into Josie’s bedroom to comfort her. Josie is glad of the comfort, and doesn’t object to Penelope sleeping beside her on those nights.

It’s the night after Lizzie’s funeral that Hope stumbles into Josie and Penelope’s home, half-drunk, with makeup streaming down her cheeks and a hefty spellbook in her hand. Josie, who had previously been staring blankly into space, thought at first glance that she had seen a ghost, with how pale and drawn Hope appeared to be. She realises what’s happening, however, as Hope slams the book on the table, and starts rifling clumsily through it. 

“Hope,” Josie begins hoarsely, caution in her tone, “what are you doing?” 

She asks as though she doesn’t already know the answer. 

“I know it’s in here,” Hope’s voice is shaky and thick with tears, “I saw it. A resurrection spell. I found it when Mom died. Aunt Freya wouldn’t let me try it then. But it’s worth a shot now, it has to be.”

“Hope, no,” Josie stands, walking slowly towards her best friend, “I know you’re hurting. I am too. But this isn’t the way, okay?”

“It  _ is _ the way, Josie, it’s the only way. I need her  _ back _ . I can’t do this without her. I need her and I have to bring her back. I thought you of all people would understand.”

Josie swallows.

“This is dark magic. It’s dangerous.” Josie speaks a little firmer now. Hope scoffs.

“Like you’re so above dark magic.”

_ Ouch. But Hope’s hurting. She doesn’t mean that unkindly. _

“Things were different back then. I was young, and stupid. Whatever you brought back, it wouldn’t be Lizzie. Not the way we knew her. She’d be something else. Something dark. Evil. Unnatural.” 

Hope’s breaths are hitching. The stack of unwashed dishes by the sink begins to shake. Josie glances at them quickly.

“I don’t care what she comes back as. I just want her back.”

Hope’s still trying to thumb through the spellbook, but shaking has overtaken her entire body, and her hands flail at the pages. Josie takes advantage of this, taking the chance to grab the book and pull it away from Hope, despite weak protests from the redhead.

“I can’t just stand by and let you do this.” Josie’s voice is raised, more so than she was expecting. She takes a breath to try to calm herself. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make you some coffee, see if we can sober you up a little--”

“Don’t you  _ want  _ Lizzie back?” Hope interrupts with a snap, whipping around to face Josie. Her eyes flash fire. Josie takes a step back, a frown creasing her eyebrows, her eyes burning with tears.

“How could you say that to me?” She whispers. “Lizzie was my sister. My twin sister. Of course I want her back.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” Hope looks Josie up and down with something that almost resembles disgust. She’s about to cry again. She clenches her jaw. “I don’t know where you get off on playing the martyr all of a sudden. If it were you suggesting this, we’d go along with it. I always went along with it, Jo. I have done so much for you. And I have never asked you for  _ anything _ . So I ask you for this one thing, something that will benefit both of us, and you refuse to help me or even let me do it myself?”

“Because it’s dangerous! I’d never put you in danger.”

“Please, you set fire to my room because you had a crush on me!”

“Again, that was years ago. We’ve all done things we’d regret, Hope, and trust me, if you go through with this you’ll regret it.” 

“Regret having my wife back? I don’t think so. Give me the book.” Hope stands expectantly, holding out her hand. Josie keeps a tight grip on the spellbook. Hope’s next demand comes as a scream. “Give it to me!” 

Everything around them rattles now, and Josie’s fingers begin to burn. She’s about to lift her hand, and Hope is too.

“Okay, I think we all need to take a second to calm down.” Penelope’s voice startles both Josie and Hope, who turn to face her as she approaches carefully. “Hope, honey, why don’t you sit down, take some breaths. Have some tea or something, something to help you relax? You’re welcome to stay here tonight if you don’t want to be alone.”

Everything stops rattling. Hope realises with horror what she’s doing. Josie does, too, as the burning leaves her fingers. Josie holds her breath. Hope’s breaths are heavy and laboured. 

“I… no. I should… I should go. I’m sorry.” 

Before either Josie or Penelope can stop her, Hope turns and rushes out of the house almost as quickly as she entered. A small silence falls.

“Shit,” Penelope says eventually. Josie exhales.

“Yeah,” she whispers. She looks away from the door to look at Penelope, only to find that she’s been watching her carefully. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“She will be, Jojo. You’ll see.”

Penelope holds her arms out to Josie. It’s the first night Josie allows Penelope to hug her. 

***

Josie loses her job in the new year. She supposes it’s fair. She rarely turned up towards the end, even after her compassionate leave ended. And when she was there, she wasn’t putting the effort in. So now she spends most days just milling around the house, trying to find mindless activities to fill the gaping hole her sister left. She hasn’t found anything that works, yet.

Penelope took the first few days off work after Josie been fired, but Josie had insisted she go back as soon as possible, as one of them had to be bringing in money. If Josie’s honest, she still struggles to be around Penelope at the moment. The guilt of being happy eats away at her.

She sees Hope more frequently now. Which is good… when Hope’s sober. Which, unfortunately, is rarely the case nowadays. Half of her feels for Hope. Lizzie’s death has been tough on her, and she doesn’t have someone near her all the time as Josie does with Penelope. She’s left to wallow by herself. But that’s because she’ll never let anyone else help. And drinking is hardly a healthy solution.

“You know, you won’t find the solution to all of your problems at the bottom of a bottle,” Josie remarks one day, as Hope takes yet another swig of whatever alcohol she brought with her that day. Hope shrugs.

“Who said I was looking for a solution?” She makes a point of not looking at Josie, staring instead at the bottle in front of her. “I just want to numb it all for a bit.”

Josie raises an eyebrow.

“There are better ways of coping than numbing yourself with alcohol. All that does is make you feel like shit the next day and fuck up your body.”

“I don’t care.”

Josie sighs heavily. 

“I just think you should find some healthier methods, is all.” She stands as she says this, walking over to the sink. She places the mug she was just drinking from beside it, ready to be washed when the mood takes her.

“What, like losing my job and just hanging around the house doing nothing all day? Not even letting my girlfriend do anything to help me?” Hope’s voice cracks on the word  _ girlfriend _ . Josie winces. “Lizzie didn’t die for you to waste your life.”

Hope’s words may as well have been a knife stabbing Josie in the gut. She almost thinks,  _ how dare she _ . But something stops her. What Josie doesn’t admit to herself is that what was stopping her was knowing that Hope was  _ right _ . No. Instead, she whips around to face Hope, her defences up faster than ever.

“And she didn’t die for you to become so self-destructive, either.”

Hope laughs harshly. She takes yet another swig of that vile stuff. Josie scrunches up her nose.

“Whatever.”

“No, it’s not whatever. Lizzie died to protect you. Not me, not Penelope, not even the whole world. Just you. So you owe it to her to live.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what I owe to her.” Hope tries to be hard and defiant, but her voice cracks and wavers. Josie realises now that she’d spoken a little too harshly. She swallows. “You know nothing about how this feels, Josie. Just like I’m sure I don’t know how you feel. So you don’t get to comment on how I’m coping or what I owe to her when the way you’re coping isn’t all that healthy either.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Josie admits, a little gentler now. Hope rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair.

“Well, don’t waste your energy.”

Josie’s frustration overtakes her again. She inhales deeply, her hands grasping at her hair.

“God, you are  _ so _ infuriating! Why are you so adamant to keep everyone out? Why won’t you ever let anyone help you? Are you really so proud that you can’t ask for help from anyone?” 

Hope stands now, her chair scraping across the floor. Her eyes meet Josie’s. They’re red and full of tears. But there’s an anger… no, not an anger… a  _ hurt _ there too.

“Pride has nothing to do with it, Josie. Some of us just don’t wear our hearts on our sleeves. Some of us aren’t so open about our broken hearts.”

“And clearly, that’s not doing you any good. I mean, look at you! You keep going on like this, you’re gonna end up alone, or worse, dead.”

“Maybe that’s what I want, Josie, did you ever think of that?”   
  


Hope yells these words louder than any before. And the silence that falls after rings in Josie’s ears. She doesn’t know what to say. She just stands, and looks at Hope. And Hope looks at her. 

“You can’t.” Josie finally says, shakily, “not after what Lizzie did. It would all be for nothing.”

“God, I am so sick of being the selfless, strong one.” Hope’s voice is equally as shaky. She tries and fails to bite back a sob. “I’m so tired.”

“Lizzie wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

“Spare me the guilt trip, Josie, I beg of you.”

A silence again.

“You know, what Lizzie really wouldn’t have wanted is for you two to be fighting all the time.”

Penelope again. Josie looks over Hope’s shoulder, and Hope turns, to see the other woman stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a raised eyebrow. “I can tell you that for sure.”

Hope looks down at the table. Josie bites her lip.

“You’re right,” Hope admits weakly. Then she takes a breath. “Maybe it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while.”

“Okay, that’s definitely not what I meant --”

“Pen, it’s fine, it’s for the best.” Hope grabs her bag, putting the bottle she was drinking from in it. “I’m not helping anyone by being here. I’m sorry.”

“Hope, wait--” Josie walks around the table to reach Hope, but by this time Hope’s already walking away. Josie grabs Hope’s wrist, but Hope pulls herself free.

“We’re not helping each other. This isn’t healthy right now. For you more than me, probably.” Hope’s voice cracks again. “God, it probably would’ve been better for everyone if Liz hadn’t jumped in front of me, huh?”

Josie thinks she feels her heart physically crack at this.

“No-”

“It’s fine.” Hope smiles, unconvincingly. “I just -- I just need some time, alright?”

Hope doesn’t give Josie a chance to answer before she scuttles past Penelope and out of the house. Josie locks eyes with Penelope. 

“Nice going, Peez.”

Penelope just grimaces apologetically.

And though Josie may not know it now, this is the last they'll hear from Hope for the rest of the winter months.


	2. Spring.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring. A season that thaws the cold. A season of new beginnings. A season of life.

With a recent thaw in the weather as winter turns to spring has too come a thaw in Josie’s heart -- and Josie has been more open and loving with Penelope again, the way they’d always been before. She’d realised, in honesty, that Hope’s words to her had been true -- Lizzie didn’t die for her to waste her life. And the last thing she’d want is for Josie to make herself purposefully unhappy, just because Lizzie wasn’t around anymore. 

And this thaw is why, one fine April morning, after taking Josie out for a picnic “just because”, Penelope Park proposes. And spring means new beginnings, means rebirth and a second chance. So Josie Saltzman accepts. And now, in a euphoria of new promises, Josie sits in the passenger seat of Penelope’s car, admiring the gem glistening on her ring finger.

“How long have you been planning this for?” She asks. Penelope smiles, a little slyly.

“A while. Since before Christmas. But then, with everything that happened…” Penelope doesn’t want to put it into words. Probably for the best, too, as even the smallest mention casts a shadow over Josie’s expression. “... it never seemed like the right time. I never wanted to pressure you. You needed space, so I gave you that.”

“Thank you.” Josie’s voice wavers. She swallows and plays with the ring on her finger.

“You’re not already having second thoughts, are you?” Penelope jokes, earning a small, if shaky laugh from Josie.

“No. It’s not that. It’s just…” Josie half looks over to Penelope, not allowing herself to meet the other’s eyes completely, “I just realised I can’t call her to tell her about this.”

A heavy silence falls, then. The initial ecstacy fading, replaced with that familiar guilt and regret burning deep in Josie’s stomach. 

“I know. I’m sorry, Jojo.” Penelope says, eventually, after a deep breath. “But you know you’re allowed to be happy, right? You don’t have to put your life on hold, or feel guilty every time something good happens to you. I know you’re sad that Lizzie isn’t here to see this. And that’s okay. Feel that all you want, because if we’re being honest, that feeling will probably never go away. But you don’t have to feel guilty that life’s going on. Lizzie would prefer to see you carrying on with life, even if you got sad that you couldn’t share it with her, than to see you how you were just a few months ago.”

Josie swallows. She knows Penelope’s right. She nods, hoping Penelope is looking at her to see this, as right now the lump in her throat is so prominent that she fears she’ll cry if she speaks. She turns her attention to look out of the window, instead. And after a few minutes, she realises her surroundings, though familiar, are not her usual surroundings when travelling home.

“Wait,” she says, once finally able to find her voice, “this isn’t the way home.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“This is the way we’d go if we were going to see Lizzie.”

“I know.”

Josie stares at Penelope expectantly. Penelope glances to her, then, sighing, turns her eyes back to the road. 

“We’re going to see Hope. We’re gonna tell her our good news.”

Josie just continues staring. Neither of them have heard from Hope since she walked out of their house at the start of the year. Josie would be lying if she said she doesn’t worry, all the time, but Hope had wanted her space, and she hadn’t made any effort to get in touch yet. “This has gone on long enough,” Penelope continues, “and you two need each other. Neither one of you is willing to make the first move, so I guess I’ll have to make it for you.”

“But Hope said she needed time. She’d have been in touch if she were ready.”

“Hope? Seriously?” Penelope laughs. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Hope’s hardly one for reaching out when she needs somebody. She probably didn’t even really want that time. Just felt like she was a burden to us. If we don’t make the first move, she’s gonna continue being alone, which I don’t think either of us wants.” A pause. “Besides. I figured you’d want her to be your Maid of Honour. Closest thing to Lizzie you’ve got, right?”

As much as Josie hates to admit it, she thinks Penelope might be right. She twiddles again with the ring on her finger, and, despite herself, smiles. 

“This is something good. Right?”

Penelope grins.

  
“Hell yeah, it is.”

***

They arrive at Hope’s soon after. Penelope, ever the more confident of the pair, gets straight out of the car and strides towards the door. Josie hangs back a little. The guilt is back in the pit of her stomach. But it’s different, this time. It’s guilt over not being there for Hope when she should have been -- guilt for not realising that things were more complex than they first appeared. 

Penelope bends down to look through the car window, and beckons for Josie to join her by the front door. With a deep breath, Josie gets out of the car, moving quickly to stand beside Penelope. She shifts her feet a little. 

“Are you gonna knock, or do I have to do that, too?” Penelope teases. Josie shoots her a glance. “Hope may be powerful, but I don’t think she can see through walls.”

Josie supposes not.

She brings her hand up, knocks on the door. There’s a sound of scuffling inside. Josie swallows, and takes a step back. 

After a few moments, the door opens. And there stands Hope Mikaelson. Relief washes over Josie to see the woman she still very much considers her best friend alive and seemingly well… this is dashed quickly, however, as with a hitched breath and a closer look, she realises that while yes, Hope may be very much alive, she isn’t as “well” as Josie first thought. She’s ashen and drawn, the heavy bags under her eyes a stark contrast to the white of her face. She’s thin, maybe too thin, and she clings to the doorframe as though it’s the only thing preventing her from collapse. On seeing Penelope and Josie, she smiles, though Josie knows Hope well enough to know how forced it is.

“Pen, Jo, hey,” she breathes, leaning against the doorframe now, “it’s been a while.”

“It has.” Josie’s voice cracks. She wants to say more. To apologise for everything. But her eyes meet Hope’s, and the look they share is enough to say everything, for now at least. “Is it okay if we come in?”

Hope, remembering herself, straightens a little, moving to one side to allow Penelope and Josie to step through.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Come through.” And Penelope and Josie head through the door. Hope closes it behind them. “Excuse the mess. I’m gonna do a spring clean soon. Just haven’t found the time.”

The place  _ is _ a mess. The table in the main room covered in scattered papers, both pages from spellbooks and mundane papers such as bills and receipts, Josie notices on closer inspection. There are some clothes thrown carelessly across chairs and the floor. Hope scurries around the room, scooping these up and placing them in a pile in one corner of the room. Josie’s just glad she hasn’t seen the kitchen yet. 

“I’ve seen worse. I mean, have you ever seen Pedro’s room at school?” Penelope chuckles. “This has nothing on that.”

Hope laughs, too. She takes a seat in an armchair, and gestures for Penelope and Josie to sit on the sofa across from her. They oblige -- Josie shifts awkwardly, and ensures her hand covers the ring on her finger. That was no way for Hope to find out. 

“So I’m guessing something brings you here besides morbid curiosity?” Hope raises an eyebrow. “You seem as though you have something to tell me.”

Penelope and Josie exchange a glance. Penelope nods to her, as a way of telling her to  _ go ahead. _ Really, it does make the most sense for Josie to be the one to tell the news.

“Well... “ Josie turns back to Hope. The tell-tale smile is creeping back onto her lips, she can feel it. “Peez proposed to me today. And I accepted.” Hope’s eyes grow wide. “We’re engaged.”

Hope smiles the first genuine smile Josie has seen from her since Lizzie died.

“Oh my God, finally! Took you long enough.”

Of course, Hope and Lizzie had been quick to marry soon after the twins survived the Merge. They saw no point in wasting more time. And the wedding had been beautiful, of course. Josie catches sight of the photo on the mantel at the side of the room. Of Hope and Lizzie, at their wedding, side by side. It was a candid shot, of the two looking at each other and laughing. Hope looks over to it briefly, too. Then swallows, and looks back to Penelope and Josie. “Congratulations,” she says, her voice shaky despite her smile. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

“Nope. You’re the first.” Penelope winks. “You should feel honoured.” 

“Oh, I definitely do.”

A beat. Then Hope stands, and walks over to the sofa, holding her arms out. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Penelope stands to hug Hope first. Josie stands, too, once Penelope pulls away. She and Hope look at each other for a long moment. Then, both sighing, envelope each other in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so much,” Josie admits gently. 

“I missed you too, Jo.”

After a moment that felt like an eternity in the best way possible, the two separate, and Josie feels so much more at ease than she did before. She rubs Hope’s arms.

“How’ve you been, anyway?”

And suddenly, Hope tenses, and averts Josie’s gaze. 

“Oh my God, I’m such a terrible host,” she says, avoiding the question entirely, “do you want anything? I can make tea. Or coffee. Or get you a snack. I mean I don’t have a lot in right now, but I’m sure I could scrounge something up…”

And she heads into the kitchen before Josie or Penelope can even tell her if they  _ do _ want anything.

***

Hope doesn’t seem to drink so much anymore, so Josie guesses she should be thankful for that. But the bitterness she previously saw in Hope has been replaced by a sadness that hangs over her friend like a dark stormcloud. She’s not sure if that’s any better, or if Hope is any safer that way.

They’re out having coffee when Josie notices Hope pushing the cake Josie had bought for her around her plate with her fork. Josie places her mug down on the table.

“You gonna eat that?” She asks, keeping her tone gentle. She’s learned that Hope responds better to gentleness, that she’s more likely to be vulnerable and truthful. Speaking harshly will only make her defensive. 

“I don’t know. I guess.” Hope sighs. She still doesn’t look up to Josie. 

“Come on, it’s your favourite. And I know you’re not exactly eating too well at the moment.”

Hope laughs weakly.

“Wow. Way to call me out, Jo.” 

“Hey, it’s understandable, okay? I totally get it. I was the same for a while. But you’ve gotta start looking after yourself eventually.”

Hope puts the fork down now. She’s silent. Josie studies her carefully. She realises, with a jolt of reality, that Hope’s about to cry. “Shit, Hope…”

“I’m sorry --” Hope barely chokes out the words before she breaks down crying. Josie stands, rounding the table to be at her friend’s side. Kneeling beside Hope and pulling her into a hug. Hope doesn’t pull away.

“It’s okay. Let it out.”

Hope’s sobs only increase then, and eventually, she allows herself to hug Josie back. Josie continues to kneel, holding Hope for as long as necessary -- waiting until Hope pulls away, wiping her eyes. Still, she stays beside Hope, lest a hug be needed again. 

“I’m sorry.” Josie is about to protest to this, but Hope continues before she has the chance. “Not just about that. About everything lately. The way I was towards you at the start. And how I just walked out of your life like that. The thing is, I’m not… used to being vulnerable around people. I mean, people who aren’t Liz.” Hope’s voice breaks, and she swallows. “It’s no excuse to act the way I have been, I know. But I just wanted to apologise. I haven’t yet.”

Josie listens carefully. And after a moment of taking in all Hope had to say, she nods slowly.

“I wanted to apologise too. I should’ve realised how bad you were and made an effort to reach out earlier. That is, I should’ve known that you didn’t actually want time away. That you were just doing it because you thought that was what  _ I  _ wanted. Because it wasn’t, it wasn’t at all and I’m sorry if you felt that way.” She rubs Hope’s arm comfortingly. “I’m sorry you’ve been alone in this for so long. But you’re not now. Pen and I are here. Always.”

Hope smiles weakly, reaches for Josie’s hand and squeezes it.

“Thanks, Jo.” A beat. Then she sighs. “God, I miss her.”

“Me too. All the time.” Josie takes a breath, finding herself blinking back her own tears. “I’d give anything to have one of those screaming rows with her, y’know?”

They both laugh tearily.

“Yeah, and I’d give anything to hear her moaning about it all night. Anything to see her again.”

A silence falls, just for a moment. Josie breaks it by standing, and heading back to her side of the table. 

“We’re gonna be okay, though,” she remarks, “you’ll see. Now eat your cake, before I do.”

Hope rolls her eyes. Still, she picks up her fork, and begins to pick at the cake in front of her.

Spring is the thaw in the cold. The time of new beginnings and second chances. The season of new life. Josie’s sure this is the start of the healing process, for the both of them. Even if it is going to take a while, she thinks that the only way it can go is up.

She has no idea, of course, of the summer storm brewing ahead. 


End file.
